


Reality is a Crutch

by kat8cha



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitute, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat8cha/pseuds/kat8cha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy Harper and Wally West are two runaways working as hookers to earn their keep. When Roy finds out Wally is sick he calls in a favor from an old friend of the family and it opens up a whole different can of worms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality is a Crutch

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline for this is sketchy, it would be set approximately around the time when Roy joins Checkmate. Wally is younger than Roy, and hence underage at the time of the story. He is not close to Iris, and thus never gets to meet the Flash and gain superpowers. Wally's parents are canonly abusive, Roy was canonly on drugs.

It ends pretty much the same way it began, with Roy staring at a phone and chewing on his fingernails. It was a habit that interfered with archery; he'd get so close to the pad of his fingers he'd be in danger of biting them too. It was another sign of how weak he was on the inside. Roy reflexively chewed his thumbnail now when he stared at any phone, but right not he was going wholesale on his fingers as he wrestled with himself. He needed to make the call.

Before, it'd been Ollie's phone that Roy had sat and stared at. 'He'll call tonight', was a mantra he'd kept up on lonely nights after patrolling star city, his muscles tired, his eyes bleary, but if he went to bed then Ollie'd call and he'd miss it. Roy stayed up more lonely nights like that… later, Roy made promises to no one who was listening (himself, god) he promised not to go out that night of Ollie called. 'Please, please, just call, I won't get high tonight if you call.' Ollie never did, however. And then he'd tossed him out. That ache still hurt.

Every time Roy tried to quit, go cold turkey and curl up on whatever mattress he and Wally had commandeered, he heard Ollie's voice in his head and felt that back handed slap to his cheek. It sent him down to the corner faster than the cravings and the jitters and the painful cramps. Not even Wally's arms could keep Roy back when that voice started up.

Wally. Roy bit down on the flesh of his finger and stared harder at the payphone. He was out of their cheap little apartment, the one owned by the crooked landlord in the seedy section of town. Between the two of them they scraped by with rent. Roy was sure they, he, could earn more. Being a package deal didn't mean they got _less_ buyers just different ones. Roy didn't let Wally go off on his own. The kid… Roy had to stop thinking of Wally like that because he wasn't a kid, not anymore, but he was innocent.

Sweet, even under the sharp occasional sarcasm.

"Waiting for a call?" Zelda, it wasn't her real name he real name was something like Maureen or Mary or Jane, cocked her hip at Roy. She lived in the apartment underneath, worked at the same run-down beat up brothel, and had a kid and an abusive boyfriend with a meth habit. Seeing her in the light of day was different than when he saw her under street lamps or neon lights. She looked haggard, her hair was lank and stringy and held back with a scrunchy and she was dressed in a baggy ripped up t-shirt and a wide brimmed hat to ward off the hot sun. Roy'd seen her with a violent john outside the brothel once, trying to pull her into his car, he'd pulled a knife on Zelda and Roy had stepped in. Taking the asshole down hadn't been hard, and she'd been oddly nice to Roy and Wally since then.

"Trying to get up the courage to make one." Roy glanced upwards, towards the grimy third floor window that lead to the shoebox sized apartment. The fact that he did not see Wally's face pressed against the dirty glass was proof of how sick Wally was. Well that and the horrible awful sound of his cough, the burning hot touch of his forehead, and his clammy hands. Roy'd blown his money on heroin the week before, he hadn't realized how sick Wally was. Wally'd hid it from him. It was only yesterday that Roy had heard Wally's rattling cough he had wanted to kill himself for being so stupid. He had not even known Wally was sick and suddenly, almost overnight, Wally seemed to have developed bronchitis or maybe pneumonia. He couldn't even get Wally to go with him to the free clinic. Wally barely felt well enough to walk to the bathroom for the steamy showers Roy forced on him (when they could get hot enough water out of the rickety pipes to steam) he wouldn't be able to walk down to the free clinic. Wally did not want to go to the free clinic because he was worried that he would need to deal with social services. Roy was pretty sure he could pass himself off as Wally's brother and even then the clinic would be too busy to bother.

Which left Roy with over the counter pharmaceuticals, trying to buy drugs off the street, or making that phone call.

Or letting Wally die.

Roy flinched away from the thought and Zelda, who was still watching, fished in her handbag for her wallet and then pulled out a quarter. "Make that call, Roy. You two deserve better than this."

Roy curled his fingers around the sweat damp quarter and nodded quickly. Zelda smiled at him, wane and pained, and went into the rickety old apartment building. Roy stared at the pay-phone some more before stepping forward and checking the dial tone, then he slipped the quarter into the phone and only hesitated a second before he dialed a familiar number.

Not the most familiar number, the one that still haunted his mind when he thought of home, but another number equally fraught with issues. He nearly cried when it went to the answering machine, ridiculously grateful he did not have to talk to Hal face to face but also torn because it meant Hal might not get this message. He needed to plead his face, make it good, he needed help.

"Hal." Roy swallowed. "Hal, it's Roy. I need help." Saying it was so hard and his hand shook the handset against his ear. "Not for me, there's this guy I'm-" A buzz sounded through the earpiece and Roy's eyes widened in worry.

"Roy? Roy! Don't hang up!" Hal's voice on the line and Roy bit down on his bottom lip as three different kinds of homesickness hit at once. "What kind of help do you need? Where are you?"

"I'm…" Roy swallowed, then laughed. "I'm in Vegas, Hal." Roy rattled off the address and tried not to think about how hot he was. He was sunburned faintly on the tips of his ears but his inside was ice cold. "It's not for me. My friend is sick. I just… I need some help. I think… he's really sick Hal." Roy banged his head against the top of the payphone and hissed at the touch of hot metal.

"Roy." Hal's voice, warm and reassuring and fatherly and Roy's lips curled defensively in anger. "I'll be there. Do you mind if I bring a friend? Not Ollie, I swear."

"No." Roy took a deep breath and thought about Wally. Anything for Wally. He'd even put up with Ollie for Wally. "Anything. He just… when you get here… Wally doesn't know heroes. He knows about me, I told him, I just… I don't want you and your friend to get in trouble because of him and me."

"You could never get me in trouble, Roy."

"Thanks, Hal." Roy took a deep breath. "I have to go. There's a line for the phone. I need to…"

"I'll see you in a few hours, Roy. Expect me before six." Roy closed his eyes. He was burning up too now, just like Wally, he was going to be seeing Hal for the first time since… since it had happened. Since they'd found out about him. Roy hung up quickly and stood there shivering even while the skin on the back of his neck turned red and sweat gathered in the curve of his back.

\---

Barry was not surprised when Hal showed up in Central City. He'd been warned by a quick phone call where Hal had asked if he was free for the day and a promise that he would 'explain when he got there'. So when Barry saw a familiar green figure approaching he ran up a wall and met Hal on a rooftop.

"I guess I will need to wear my fancy pajamas for this." Barry motioned to his suit. Hal smiled, sheepishly, and nodded. It was the smile that Hal always wore when Barry had to bail him out of a check, and once when Barry had had to bail Hal out of jail. "And need my wallet."

"It's why I called you, Barry." Green Lantern rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, do you remember Speedy? And can I tell you while flying, we need to get to Vegas."

"I can run faster than you can fly us." Barry countered but a green construct was already forming under his feet. "But if that is what you want."

Soon they were in the air and Barry was holding onto a waist high banister while he watched the ground below. He knew that Hal preferred to fly when he needed to be in control of a situation, and this was obviously a situation that Hal did not feel in control of. He flew close by so that Barry could hear him over the wind. "You remember Speedy, right?"

"You asked already, Hal." Barry rolled his eyes a little, but only a little. "Green Arrow's sidekick, right? The one who started doing drugs."

"Spe- Roy was more than that. I mean, he was Ollie's sidekick of course but he was also… he was a good kid." Hal's voice shook a little as he continued to speak although his concentration stayed strong. "When I heard what Ollie did… I couldn't believe him. I only wish Roy had come to me instead of running away."

Barry tightened his grip on the rail but did not interrupt. He knew what Hal meant. Iris, his wife, had a nephew named Wally who had run off. Barry had never met him but Iris seemed to care so much when her brother had called and asked if Wally was with her. She had been so broken up about it… Barry could see the same pain reflected in Hal now.

"He called me today asking for help. He's in Vegas, can you believe that, Vegas! That's not far away at _all_. I can't believe… I always thought he ended up on the other side of the country or he ended up-" Hal broke off, but Barry knew what word ended that sentence. 'Dead'.

"And you came to Kansas to pick me up?" That was… out of the way, it would have been a lot faster if Hal had told Barry to meet him halfway.

"I need someone with me on this." That strange tone in Hal's voice was easily identified by Barry, it was the unsure tone of voice that only Ollie could cause. Barry looked away at the ground passing quickly beneath them. Ollie… one day, Barry was sure, he'd tell Hal how he felt about Ollie and why. "I can't bring Ollie. Roy said not to and honestly I don't want to. He had his chance with Roy and he ruined it." Anger hardened Hal's voice. "That's not fair of me. It was my fault too. I knew something was up… I went back too late though, by the time I got there Ollie had already kicked Roy out… he _hit_ him, can you believe that, and I couldn't find a hide or hair of Roy in all of Star City. I was lucky to find Ollie before the drug-runners finished him off."

Barry looked up this time, at the blazing hot sun, before turning to look at Hal. Hal's chin was set and his ring sparked between his curled fingers. Sometimes it was scary how much willpower Hal had inside of him. Barry wasn't sure he would have been able to keep on living like that.

"I looked for him. Dinah helped and eventually even Ollie looked, but we couldn't find him. It's been over a year since he ran away and he calls me for help for someone else." Hal cringed and this time the construct did waver slightly, Barry grabbed onto the railing tightly until it strengthened underneath his feet. "Sorry. I just… I should be glad he called at all, right?"

"It means he trusts you, Hal. And maybe it means he has stopped doing drugs and has become a law abiding citizen again." Barry's tone was hopeful but he could tell that Hal doubted it. Barry himself doubted it. He had seen drug addicts on the streets of Central and he had even dealt with some in his police work. Addicts were the nastiest pieces of work. Some of them were so wounded inside that nothing held them together but the drugs and many of them would flip on a friend just so they could get out of the precinct and score a hit. Barry had seen alcohol addicts and smoking addicts and both seemed benign next to the type of things you could get hooked on off the streets.

The construct shifted so that it became a protective dome from the sun and the heat as they flew further south. "I don't think so. If this kid Wally's sickness was something Roy could just take him to the hospital for I doubt he would have called me."

Barry was grateful for the dome as the use of that name had caused him to start forward and press his hands against the green energy. "Wally? Did you say Wally, Hal?"

Hal glanced at Barry, obviously confused, and shrugged his shoulders. "That's what Roy said the kid's name was… why, you know something?"

It couldn't be the same Wally, having Iris' nephew end up with Oliver Queen's junkie ex-ward? It wasn't possible. It was preposterous. It would take a string of coincidences the likes of which Barry had never seen. First, they would need to have met. But hadn't Wally left his house about a year ago? Barry could remember getting the call from Iris' brother and was almost positive it was around the same time of year. But Roy had run away from California and ended up in Vegas. Wally would have had to run away from Kansas to Vegas in order to meet up with Roy. And why would Wally have run that way to begin with?

"It must be a coincidence." Barry muttered, then cleared his throat and spoke up. "Iris has a nephew, Wallace West, he ran away around a year ago, we haven't heard from him at all…" Barry shook his head and looked at Hal. "It's gotta be a coincidence. Wally is a pretty popular name, right?"

"…right." Hal nodded quickly, but Barry did not miss that they picked up speed and that Hal was obviously not convinced. "Coincidence."

Barry steeled himself for what might be a very uncomfortable reunion for all of them. "Don't worry, Hal, whatever happens… I think it will turn out just fine."

 

The two of them are curled up on the bed shaking together. Roy has his face pressed against the side of Wally's neck while their one fan whirs and clacks, whirs and clacks. He's hot, too hot to be holding Wally like this, and both of them are covered with sweat. Every now and then Wally shivers, his chest expanding with air and then depressing as he hacks it all out. Roy shudders every time and wishes he could hold Wally tighter. A shock of nausea roils through Roy and he reluctantly pulls himself away from Wally, their sweat damp clothes sticking to skin and peeling off with a sticky noise. Another shudder and Roy launches himself over Wally's curled up body to stumble into their tiny beige bathroom. It's a bathroom that's seen better days, the floor tile is cracked in spots, and the mirror is missing a corner. The entire room is tinted yellow with age and poor lighting. Roy grabs the edges of the toilet and swallows once, thickly, before losing stomach lining and bile as he worships the porcelain god.

Better that then chasing the dragon, Roy thought as he slumped against the wall. His mouth tasted awful, sour and empty, and Roy closed his eyes tightly as muscles cramped.

This wasn't how he wanted to see Hal. This wasn't how he wanted to see anyone. Roy shuddered and pressed his forehead against the back of his hands as pain and nausea roiled through him.

'Nothing but a junkie', Roy scratched at his cheek and shook his head. He wasn't going to think about Ollie. Ollie with his stupid hypocrisy and his inability to face up to his own mistakes. Roy thumped his head back against the wall. God he hated Ollie. He hated Ollie because he loved him and he hated Ollie because he hated himself. Roy knew who was at fault for his drug addiction, he was, but blaming Ollie was so easy. It did not make Roy feel any better though. He, at least, could take ownership of his mistakes.

"Roy?" A rough frog like croak followed by a painful sounding cough. Roy could hear Wally's throat scratched by that cough like a million sharp edges grinding against soft tissue. "You," another cough, "okay?"

Roy shook his head and clenched his teeth. He didn't trust himself to speak for fear he'd throw up more. Instead he flung himself upward, vertigo making him dry retch into the sink, and turned on the cool water then splashed it onto his face. Ice cold clammy hands pressed against Roy's sweat damp shoulders and massaged his tight muscles even though Wally's hands were shaking almost as badly as Roy was.

"We're such a pair." Roy half grunted half sobbed. "You're dying, and I feel like death."

Wally's cough was probably a laugh and the cracked mirror reflected a wan smile in his moon pale face. Wally's freckles, that had dusted Wally's nose when they'd first arrived in Vegas and now covered his cheeks and shoulders, stood out against his pale skin. "What, this?" Wally's cough was unforced and yet still comically timed. "Just a flesh wound, Roy."

"John Cleese you're not." Roy gagged again and then spun around to spit bile and mucus into the toilet before flushing it. "Get back on the bed, Wally. I'll…" It took Roy a second to realize the buzzing sound wasn't in his head but was actually the alert that someone was buzzing his apartment from outside. It was an old building and the buzzing was absolutely annoying. "Oh fuck. Oh _fuck_ they're here."

Wally coughed and attempted to block Roy's path when Roy forced himself out of the bathroom. "Wh-" Wally hacked again and attempted to wipe his lips off before Roy realized there was blood on his lips. "Who?"

Roy pretended he hadn't noticed while struggling into a beat up pair of tennis shoes. "I called for help." He balanced with one hand pressed against the wall while stuffing one foot into his shoe. "You need help right now, Wally, medical help, you need…" Roy shuddered and fell back against the wall when his leg twitched unconsciously. "You're really sick right now, Wall."

"Roy…" Wally took a deep breath and actually managed to hold it while he summoned a shaky smile. Roy knew what he was going to say. 'I'm fine, there's nothing wrong, and you're overreacting'. Or that was what Wally would try to say.

"Don't try it." Roy scrubbed at his forehead and walked unsteadily towards the door. He might not be able to pretend the withdrawal wasn't hitting him so hard all he wanted to do was crawl to a dealer. "Don't even, Wally."

It was the slightly glassy hurt look in Wally's wide eyes that made Roy hesitate in the doorway. "Look, you know how you're always telling me I should talk to the cape crowd?" Wally nodded, hesitantly, and Roy slanted him a typical Speedy devil may care smile. "Prepare to get your socks off, man, because you're going to be meeting Green Lantern." The buzzing stopped and then started again, one short buzz, and Roy let the door slam shut behind him.

"Wh-" Wally's coughs were audible once the door had closed and Roy winced. "Roy!" The shout was muffled and painful sounding. Roy half stumbled and half ran down the stairs. He did not want Hal to leave, or worse, to come up and surprise Wally. The other redhead was pretty shy around new people and Hal could come on pretty strong. Roy also didn't want Hal talking to the other people living in the rickety apartment building. Evening was starting to fall accompanied with a drop of temperature and women in skimpy dresses or men in low slung pants were starting to leave their buildings and head for the bordellos that didn't open until night really fell and the light was lit up by neon.

At the top of the first flight of stairs Roy could see two pairs of legs at the foot of the stairs. One was a pair of khaki pants, the other was jeans. Roy would put even money on Hal being the jeans because he wouldn't wear khaki's unless it was a dress occasion. Roy thundered down the last flight of steps and the two people outside came into view. Not Ollie, not like Roy had thought Hal would bring him but he had feared it. He had no idea who this other guy was, he didn't look like anyone Roy knew from the League. So he must be a hero with a pretty good mask. Maybe he was the Martian Manhunter in disguise?

It took Roy only a few seconds to get the doors open and then he had to take a second to catch his breath. Then that second turned into him leaning heavily against the door jamb. "Hey, Hal."

He winced, he sounded so bad. Hal winced too, his hopeful smile fading into a pained ghost of a smile. "Hey, Roy."

Roy glanced over at Hal's friend who shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Huh, so probably not the Martian Manhunter then. Roy thought of the weirdest kinkiest thing he had done (it included Wally, the Jacuzzi at the bordello, and some slumming rich college students) and the guy just continued to look uncomfortable, so Roy ruled out the Martian Manhunter completely. Hal and Batman weren't great friends and Roy was pretty sure Batman would like, obviously brood or something. It _had_ to be some hero though.

…maybe the Flash?

Naw, the guy was definitely too plain for that.

"I, Wally's upstairs." Roy winced and motioned for the two older men to come inside the apartment, then closed the doors and jogged ahead of them. It hurt and it made his head swim but it was better than having them head up in front of him. Hal's gaze was worried and heavy on his back and Roy shivered. The last time he had seen Hal had been just before Ollie found out and kicked him out. He thought about the horrible trip that Hal'd experienced on heroin and the constructs he had created with the ring before he gave a short shake of his head and began the long torturous awkwardly silent walk up the stairs, Hal would never understand Roy's addiction.

"What's wrong with 'Wally'?" Roy could hear the air quotes in Hal's speech.

"It's his real name." Roy stated shortly, pulling himself up those last few steps with the banister and then keeping his back straight as he walked towards the room. He hadn't bothered locking it and the door fell open with a creak. Roy would like to have said he was surprised to see Wally attempting to clean the apartment up, bent over in a coughing fit, but he couldn't. "Wally!" He rushed over and grabbed Wally as the other teen collapsed but his legs weren't sturdy enough and he fell down too. Both of them lay in a tangled sweaty mess on the floor with a broom pressing uncomfortably against Roy's spine. "Wally."

"Sorry." Wally coughed into Roy's collarbone and shivered. "I just… wanted to clean up."

Roy rubbed his hands over Wally's back and looked over Wally's shoulder at Hal. Hal was standing in the doorway looking over the apartment with wide eyes while the other man stood in the hallway talking to one of Roy's neighbor's. Roy winced and almost pushed Wally away except Wally's fingers were curled tight around his arm. "Can you two get… in here?" Roy wished he didn't sound as weak as he did but as soon as he spoke a wave of nausea and cramps swept through him and he did push Wally away this time and rush to the bathroom. He managed to get the door shut before he crumpled, but the door wasn't really enough to block out the sounds of conversation.

"Wally?!"

"I'm sorry, I don't…"

Roy turned on the faucet and ducked his head underneath it, his breath coming fast and ragged. He pulled back at a knock on the bathroom door.

"…your aunt Iris…"

"Roy, you okay in there, champ?"

Roy groaned and thunked his head against the faucet. Of all the people Hal could have brought it was someone who knew Wally? Fuck. Someone related to him even.

Fuck, he needed a hit.

-

It was amazing how much space Hal could take up in a room with his displeasure. Roy had always been impressed how big Hal could look with his arms crossed and his mouth downturned in a frown. It was the look he gave evil doers after he'd thrashed them and left them on the ground. Roy'd had it directed at him more than once after he'd done something stupid and Hal didn't approve but Ollie didn't care. Of course, Ollie spent a lot of his time not caring what Roy did until too late, case in point, Roy's current situation. Wally huddled behind Roy on the bed and Roy could only imagine the pathetic sight the two of them made, Wally curled up with one arm wrapped protectively around Roy's waist and his eyes wide in his pale sweaty face, his stringy hair curled over his forehead while Roy leaned back against Wally for support, his knuckles white with the grip he had on the mattress. Neither of them was up facing down two superheroes, especially not two such disapproving ones.

Roy might have imagined that The Flash would vibrate with anger, but Barry Allen was too all-American to react that way. Instead he stood utterly still and radiated displeasure much like Hal, but at the same time different. Not colder, but maybe a little harder, and definitely more morally indignant. Barry didn't like the situation his wife's nephew was in, and he didn't like their dingy, cracked apartment, and he didn't seem to like Roy either from the way he kept glancing Roy's way. Roy was suddenly very glad that Wally hadn't had any contact with Barry before this; at least he'd never had to see that look in Wally's eyes.

"Roy, I can't leave the two of you here." Hal's eyebrows arched upward, it's a look Roy's generally only seen behind the mask, and it always caused the mask to turn into a very odd V shape. Without the mask it makes Hal's face turn into a very odd V shape. "Wally has pneumonia, he needs medical attention."

"That's why I called you!" Roy shouted and straightened his spine as he felt the anger boil in his stomach. "You were supposed to help!"

"I'm _trying_ , Roy." Hal glanced at Barry who turned his disapproving look away from Roy to look supportively at Hal. Roy bit down on the urge to call him a douche. "Wally needs medication and he needs rest. The dry air here isn't doing him any good…"

"We'll get a humidifier!" Roy glanced at Wally who nodded his head supportively. "We can go to the free clinic for medication and he can rest here…" Roy curled up against Wally who curled around him. It was a change from their usual puppy pile where Roy was the one curling around Wally. He was taller, and Wally enjoyed the sense of protection more.

"Roy…" And Roy was getting really sick of Hal drifting off when talking to him. He'd done it close to ten times since Roy had welcomed the Green Lantern into his apartment. "I _can't_ leave the two of you here, I don't know what you've been doing to pay for this place but…"

"It can't be legal." Barry scowled and Roy felt Wally shrink behind him.

"It's legal in Reno." Roy shot back, lamely, and only realized how stupid a thing it was to say after the words had left his mouth. He wasn't sure about Barry but Hal… Roy could see as Hal's brain processed Roy's statement and Roy tried to frantically back track. "I mean, that's not, we're not-"

"You're a prostitute?"

Roy winced, and Wally curled his arms tight around Roy's waist and _hugged_ him tight. "At least I'm not stealing. Or dealing. Or something." Roy glanced away from Hal's face to the floor then back up to Hal's face then at Barry's face. Barry was not looking at Roy, at least, but he was looking at Wally.

"Did Roy put you up to this, Wally?"

And really, Roy felt pathetic enough already, he hadn't needed a member of the Justice League punching him in the gut like that.

"Roy protects me." And Roy winced again. How many prostitutes had he heard say that about their pimp? How many prostitutes with _abusive_ pimps had he heard say that about their pimp? Too many, was the answer, and now here he was hearing it from Wally. Roy fought down a wave of nausea, there wasn't anything left in his stomach to vomit anyway, and found he could not lift his eyes from the floor. He'd never felt right about leading the kind of life he led with Wally. Not that he encouraged Wally to work solo jobs, in fact he'd made pretty vehement arguments against it, but he knew Wally did when he was too high and strung out to bring in any money. He knew Wally thought it was a secret, that Wally kept the money from those jobs tucked away 'for emergencies' or 'just in case'. He never brought these jobs up though because they made Wally feel like he was helping, even if he was hurting himself.

Prostitution hadn't been high on Roy's list of possible occupations either.

"It might seem like he's protecting you-" Barry started, then cut off. Roy turned to look over his shoulder and even he was impressed with Wally's glare.

"Roy's been there for me. If it wasn't for him I'd probably be dead in Central City right now. He saved me from myself, and from other people, and he's helped me. We're not stealing, and we do odd jobs when we can to earn money. It's not all prostitution. Prostitution's just…"

"It's easy." Roy muttered in the direction of the floor. He knew then that he was going to give in. In fact, Roy could probably say that from the minute he called Hal he had known how this confrontation would go. And maybe, maybe, it was a sign of how much Wally had helped him heal that he could admit he needed help, and he could ask for the help that he needed. "Alright, fine, we'll go with you-"

Everyone began to speak at once then, Wally voiced protests, Barry and Hal were both eager to put in their two cents. Roy held up a shaking hand and waited for everyone to quiet down. "Wally and I don't get separated, we go with one of you." Roy glanced from Barry to Hal at that statement. He could see that both men were unhappy with it, Barry more so than Hal. Hal mainly looked relieved that Roy wasn't fighting him. "Wally, you really need to get to a doctor." Roy gripped the bed with his other hand and attempted to ride out a powerful stomach cramp without curling into a ball. "And… you should at least talk to your aunt."

"I'm not Aunt Iris' problem…" Wally coughed into his hand. It sounded painful, like two sheets of sandpaper scratching against each other.

"Iris doesn't consider you a problem, Wally. She was incredibly worried when you first disappeared." Everyone in the room could hear the silent add-on that she would be more worried now that she had found out what Wally had been up to. "She'll want to see you. I could run you home right now."

"Not. Without. Roy." Wally's voice faded to a pained whisper on Roy's name and his fingers clenched in Roy's damp t-shirt.

"Barry," Hal turned to Barry and dropped his voice. Not quite so Roy couldn't hear him, but quiet enough that when Wally started coughing, which he did and Roy had to turn to pat him on the back and hand him the glass of water they'd set on the floor earlier, it was hard. "I think it would be best if the boys came home with me, for now."

Barry placed a hand on Hal's arm and leaned in close when he spoke. "Hal, you don't know what to do with kids, and you live in a one room apartment. It'd be better if I took them with me."

"I've got a fold out couch." Hal defended and he glanced at Roy and Wally. Roy quickly pretended like he hadn't been listening. "I've got a decent relationship with Roy, and he's the one I'd be worried about bolting." Roy couldn't quite suppress the wince. "Plus, no offense Barry, you're kind of heavy handed sometimes."

Wally pressed his face against Roy's shoulder to cover up a laugh.

Barry winced. "Fine, but I'm going to bring Iris over as soon as we get them settled. And I'll help you buy some food, there's no way you have enough to feed two growing boys, and I know you don't have any chicken soup."

Wally laughed again, though it devolved into a cough as well, and grinned up at Roy. "They kind of sound like us."

Roy brushed Wally's hair out of his face and smiled back. "They kind of do."

\--

Hal'd been acting suspiciously, that was why Ollie decided to hop in the car and head for Coast City. Not suspiciously like he was being mind-controlled or like he'd been replaced with an alien doppelganger, no, not suspiciously enough for League intervention. Plus, If Ollie had needed to call in the league he would have had to call in Barry too, or exclude Barry under the suspicion that he and Hal were in cahoots of some sort. There was definitely something fishy going on and it definitely included the two of them. Ollie had spent some time (just a few hours really) pondering if Hal and Barry had finally decided to settle all that way-too-friendly UST with some good old fashioned sex, but Barry wasn't acting guilty and if there was one thing Barry Allen was it was moral, and cheating on your wife just wasn't right.

It was a good thing Ollie had decided to investigate Hal's business anyway because it looked like the fine Green Lantern had gotten himself into a bit of trouble. Ollie wouldn't have even known if it wasn't for the villain involved, apparently The Art Critic wanted his voice heard, so he was getting a *lot* of television coverage for his crime. Now generally a clichéd villain like The Art Critic (his costume and his message were both ridiculous) would be a problem solved by a boxing glove arrow to the face, but Ollie felt like taking his time. Why? Because when he had passed the electronic store and seen the bits of heist televised by the media he'd spotted a familiar head of brown hair being held captive by a field of overly friendly sunflowers. Ollie had spent the entire minute it had taken him to change clothes laughing before he'd headed towards the museum. Once there it had been a brief internal battle between charging in the front door (or dropping in through that delightful skylight) or coming round the back. He picked 'coming round the back' because there were civilians around and the last thing Ollie wanted was to get them hurt. Also, he could mock Hal more if he snuck in and acted like a proper hero.

Coming in through the maintenance entrance wasn't glamorous. Ollie had to break the lock and then hike down three flights of stairs. He came out on the second floor because there was a balcony that overlooked the main room where The Art Critic was holding his hostages. He headed down the hallway and turned a corner… and would have run smack into a walking piece of Degas if he hadn't been pulled into a nearby broom closet by a thin, freckled hand.

"…" He stared at the teenager who had saved him from 'alerting the guards'. The teen was a redhead, and thin, with gauntness to his face that came from a high metabolism and not eating enough. Ollie'd seen it on Barry sometimes, when Barry overworked and couldn't quite get enough food to feed his speedster body. Ollie'd also seen it on plenty of teens. Freckles liberally dusted the kid's angular face and the skinny arms poking out of a slightly too large green polo, and his jeans were obviously second hand. The kid also had narrow green eyes that were regarding Ollie with suspicion.

There was nothing but coloring and age to tie him to Roy, and even then the kid looked younger than Roy would be now, still just looking at the kid made Ollie ache in a way he'd deny for all he was worth.

The kid was looking him over too and did not look impressed. "I was hoping for Batman." He eventually said, breaking the silence.

Ollie snorted. Kid had balls. "Ol' pointy ears generally keeps to Gotham, kid, except on League business. And this ain't League business." Ah, the Justice League, good for getting superheroes together and out of their home cities. "Think you can give me a brief description of events?"

The redhead rolled his eyes and leaned back against the broom closet wall. "I was here with…" a pause, the kid was trying to figure out how to cover something up and wasn't a very good liar, "some friends when the trouble went down. We were looking at the Impressionists," and the kid was smiling now, obviously remembering something funny, maybe he was thinking about the naked women in the paintings, "when The Art Critic showed up. My one friend pushed me into the closet before he got caught, I think. I think he tried to fight some of the paintings off." And now the kid was frowning and chewing on his bottom lip, worried. "I've managed to get pretty close, but I saw the paintings grab a few people earlier. They can definitely see and I don't want to end up another hostage."

"No worries, kid." Ollie patted the teen on the shoulder and received yet another unimpressed look for the effort. "I'll take it from here." Then, in a show of bravado, Ollie opened the closet door and found himself facing down a Picasso. Of course, acting on instinct, he shot it. Not that it did any good, the angles and boxy colors approached Ollie anyway, so he grabbed the kid and ran. "How do you stop these things?" He shouted at the kid, swerving around empty displays while somehow the clown chased after them.

"How should I know?" The kid shouted back, and then they both shut up because they were approaching the balcony and the last thing they wanted to lose was the element of surprise. Ollie shot the Picasso with an arrow again and this time pinned it to the wall. Immediately the painting flattened out and became a painting again… albeit with an arrow stuck in it. Ollie was suddenly sure that the curator of the museum would become a super villain just to punish Ollie for destroying art.

"I guess that's how you 'kill' them." The kid even did air quotes around the word 'kill'. It was cute, if ridiculous. The kid could have made someone a good sidekick.

Ollie crouched down so he was out of the line of sight of any other wandering paintings and motioned for the kid to do the same. "It doesn't count if they were lifeless to start." And the clown painting following them had been freaky, too freaky to be considered 'alive'. "Alright, kid, how do you feel about making me a distraction?"

". . ." The kid opened his mouth and then shut it, not like he'd forgotten what he was going to say but in a manner that suggested he was holding himself back. "How much of a distraction do you need?"

Ollie snuck closer to the glass railing that ran around the balcony and revealed the main floor below. He could see the heads of the hostages, many of them wrapped up in vaguely familiar pieces of art, and he could see The Art Critic, standing in the middle of them with a bullhorn and his eyes on the main doors. The Art Critic didn't look like the kind of guy who regularly battled the police, heroes, or villains. He was skinny, and his garishly colored costume (Ollie knew it was modeled after a painting, he could recognize that much, though hell if he could recognize the painting) wasn't as tight as many people liked it. It looked more like a pajamas than the spandex tracksuits most villains wore. Still, it was tight enough to show some muscle definition. The Art Critic *could* probably pack a punch. Not like Ollie was going to let him.

"Just shout some obscenities. You're a teenager, I'm sure you know some swear words." The teen rolled his eyes and Ollie rolled his right back. "Count of three alright with you?"

"Sure."

"Alright then. One…" Ollie moved around to a different side of the balcony while he readied an arrow. "Two…" He kept one eye on the hostages, especially Hal because Hal was known for doing stupid things. "Three!"

The kid popped up right on cue. "Hey! Stupid!" Almost half the hostages looked up, as well as the Art Critic. Ollie jumped over the railing. "I think Seurat sucks!" He fired in mid-air while the kid shouted… well, whatever it was he was shouting. The Art Critic's face turned red just before Ollie's boxing glove arrow hit him square in the jaw and knocked him off his feet.

"Why you-" The moving art halted when Ollie leveled a far less friendly arrow The Art Critic's way. "This violates my rights!"

"Tell it to the police." Then Ollie smacked T.A.C. hard under the chin, the villain's head bounced off the floor and his eyes rolled up into his skull. The art around the room faded, turned into canvas, or returned grindingly to their original positions, depending on the art. Hal carefully stepped off the canvas painting of sunflowers and shot Ollie a grateful look. Ollie smirked at him as the police pushed through the glass doors and gathered up the passed out villain before they started questioning the hostages. Ollie got a few thanks before he was ignored by cops who were more used to dealing with Green Lantern who dropped off bad guys and flew away. Green Arrow was generally the type to shoot and run too, he wasn't like Barry who enjoyed chatting with everyone, but he took this chance to lean against the wall and watch Hal. Hal couldn't just escape now that the room was swarming with police and hostages and he kept sending Ollie these little glances, like he wasn't sure if he wanted Ollie to leave or if he was grateful or if he desperately wanted to tell Ollie something but couldn't. It was probably all of the above.

"Hal!" The kid had a voice that carried, or maybe it was just that Ollie was listening for it. He saw the kid push his way through uniforms over towards Hal, and since the teenagers back was to him he didn't see the look Ollie was now giving him. Ollie then glanced up at Hal when the crowd swarmed. It was hard to tell, but Hal was definitely blushing.

Well, Hal wouldn't be the first superhero to pick up a redheaded ward. And if Hal had picked the teen up because of… well. Hal could handle a kid. The way he played the ladies he was probably going to have one eventually. Ollie tried hard not to think about the kid he knew he had. With the kid not shouting and all the chatter going on Ollie couldn't hear what they were saying. Hal seemed nervous, and whatever he was saying he was nodding quite a bit and he eventually jerked his head to the left. Then the kid was pushing through the crowd again and Hal was walking over. Hal casually leaned against the wall by Ollie and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I can't believe you asked him to create a distraction." Hal sounded almost upset, although there was a large quotient of bafflement in there too. "He's not a sidekick or a hero, Ollie."

"I needed a distraction." Ollie stated defensively. "And I used what I had at hand! Plus, you seemed awful close to him, Hal, he a relative?" Ollie knew, distantly, that some heroes had family units, he knew that Hal had a family unit even if he wasn't too communicative with or about them. Still, the kid made him ache and Ollie refused to admit this or why. "Maybe you shouldn't get too close to me, he could figure out your secret identity."

"He knows." Hal shrugged and Ollie realized for the first time that Hal was dressed in his going out clothes. Oh, not his 'going out' clothes, but the nice clothes he wore when they decided to spend time together as civilians and wanted to be presentable. "He's not related though."

Ollie shook his head slowly and stroked his beard like he was contemplating something. "And here you were saying he wasn't a sidekick. If you're picking up young boys like Batman does…"

"No!" Hal's shout was almost loud enough to attract attention from the police now filtering hostages out the doors but Ollie waved his hand and they decided it wasn't worth the effort and looked away. "Look, he's not my ward or anything. I'm smart enough not to pick up a kid if all I'm going to end up doing is ditching him."

Ollie winced hard. "Hal…"

"Let's just drop it, Ollie." There was a sharp edge to Hal's voice that Ollie was sure he had never heard before. It made Ollie narrow his eyes and curl his hands into fists. Roy hadn't been all his fault. If Hal… if Dinah… if _Roy_ …

"So, not a sidekick?" Ollie forced his fingers to uncurl and scanned the crowd for red hair. He spotted several redheads in the crowd but he found the one he was looking for on the other side of his room with his back to Ollie. He was talking to someone who was leaning against the wall and blocked from Ollie's line of sight by one of the paramedics checking the hostages over. The Paramedic's body language made Ollie think that whoever the redhead was talking to wasn't being a very good patient.

"He's a good kid." Hal said defensively and Ollie glanced back at his friend. "Nice, decent, cleans up good. He just needs a little help, so I'm giving it to him." Ollie continued to stare and Hal shifted his feet. "People are probably going to get… I'm going to deal with Wally, could you meet me at my apartment in like an hour? Wear civvies."

Then Hal was pushing through the crowd to get to the redhead on the other side of the room and Ollie was left alone. After a brief moment of debate Ollie shrugged and decided to make like a banana and split before someone started to give him more suspicious looks than usual. It didn't take him long to get back to where he'd stashed his clothes and change or to get back to his car. The kid was probably why Hal had been acting so strange lately. Kids… changed people. Well, they changed people if you were a decent person.

It didn't take Ollie long to reach Hal's apartment building and his brain was so preoccupied with not thinking about Roy and thinking about Hal and his kid that he promptly ignored the part of his conversation with Hal that had included 'in an hour'. Instead he headed up and cheerfully broke into Hal's apartment.

Although he wasn't sure if it counted as 'breaking in' if all he did was find Hal's spare key and use it to unlock the front door. He even locked the door after himself and looked around the apartment. If he had felt the need to Ollie wasn't sure he would have been able to bite back his chuckle. There couch was folded out into a bed and the sheets were rumpled. There were clothes hanging off of the arms of the couch and tossed in a pile on the coffee table. Ollie shook his head and smiled slightly, the kid made twice as big a mess as Roy ever had, and had similar taste in clothes. In fact, Ollie was sure that Roy had worn a short almost identical to the one that lay flat on the bed.

Ollie absented to the kitchen to poke around Hal's fridge. At least this explained why Hal kept talking to Barry. Barry was pretty responsible, even if he hadn't had a kid. And considering Hal's tendency to run low on cash… if he was supporting a kid, Barry would probably be willing to lend him some cash. Ollie frowned at the half full fridge and instead turned to get a glass of water. He'd have leant Hal money too… though he didn't have a lot left. Ollie briefly thought of how much money he could have made off the Arrowplane if he hadn't decided to…

But there'd been a reason for it, even if the Ashram hadn't really given him any peace.

Ollie sighed into his glass of water and wished it was late enough he could crack open one of the beers in Hal's fridge and not feel guilty. But getting drunk so early in the afternoon would be a bad idea, even if Ollie was definitely dragging Hal out for a night on the town and getting drunk later.

Muffled noises filtered through from the hallway, Hal must be back with the kid. Ollie dumped the water into the sink and then placed the glass in it too. He debated between staying in the kitchen or sitting on the only open chair in the living room too long and the door was unlocked and opened while Ollie stood in the door to the kitchen.

"You can't lecture me," The kid with the red hair walked into the room, talking to someone over his shoulder, "what I did wasn't nearly as stupid as what you did, Roy."

Ollie's breath caught in his chest and he held it there, too scared to breathe, he shrunk back into the kitchen so that Hal, who was next through the door, wouldn't see him.

And he waited.

"You're always telling me you want me to be a hero, Wally." Roy Harper, large as life and twice as mad, kicked the door to Hal's apartment shut and then leaned against it. He had a bruise on his jaw and bandages peeked out from under his shirt sleeve.

"I was being a distraction." Wally pointed a finger in Roy's face. "You were being a brat. You were hostage! You're supposed to behave!"

"That guy was a sleaze and that naked painting was getting way too close to those girls, alright! He deserved it when I called him a pervert!"

"Mister Jordan," Wally turned with wide eyes to look at Hal, and on the way he caught sight of Ollie in the doorway to the kitchen. He stopped and stared at Ollie instead.

"Leave me out of the lover's quarrel, kid." Hal shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the rack. "What're you-" And then Hal was staring at the kitchen too.

And so was Roy.

Ollie felt anger and bile crowd in his throat making it almost so tight he couldn't speak. "I see why you wanted me to come in an hour, _Hal_."

Roy's face was pale and he made a desperate noise before he bolted to the front door. Wally caught at his sleeve and turned him around, the two redheads having a split second staring contest before Roy shook his head and bolted for Hal's bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and it was enough to shock the anger back down where it roiled in Ollie's stomach.

"Why couldn't you have come in an hour?" Hal asked, his face buried in his hands. "We'd have managed to get him to agree to stay by that point, or I'd have gotten him out of here and you'd never know he was here." Hal's shoulder slumped and then Hal slid into the only free chair in the room and stared at Ollie from it.

"Mister Queen?" And if Roy was still his sidekick he'd have had a talk with the kid about secret identities although it might have been Hal who told the kid is name. Wally walked over and stood right in front of Ollie with his feet planted and his hands balled into tight fists.

"Yeah, kid?" And Ollie could read the kid's moves from a million miles away, but he was still faintly surprised when the kid pulled back and clocked him one.

"I didn't think it'd be right to hit you in front of the other hostages," And it didn't even hurt much, just a little. Ollie'd probably bruise, and it was a well thrown punch, but there hadn't been a hell of a lot of power behind it and Ollie was used to facing down super-villains. "But you deserved that for what you did to Roy."

Then Wally strode over to the door to Hal's bedroom, knocked twice, and slipped in through the slim crack that Roy opened it, which left Ollie and Hal to stare blankly at each other, both of them hostages to past mistakes.

\--

Roy sat with his back against the door, his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead rested against his knees while his arms wrapped around his legs and hugged them tight to his body. He had been waiting for sound from the other room, either angry shouts or possibly the sounds of a fist fight. Ollie had not stormed over to Hal's bedroom and pounded on the door, in fact the only one to have knocked had been Wally and Roy had let Wally in of course. Still, Roy was… surprised. Surprised and possibly a little hurt. Which brought up the question, how did he want Ollie to react? Did he want anger? Regret? Did he want Ollie to ask for him to come back?

Roy squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his legs hard and… sighed before he released the tension and allowed his legs to drop flat on the floor. Wally was seated next to him with his back against the door in a position that probably had the doorjamb digging into his spine. He looked at Roy with a hopeful expression, the same kind of expression that Wally had *always* given Roy, the kind of look that could fill a guy with cocky pride if he thought he could live up to all the trust Wally put in him. Roy knew he could not, though he knew he would keep trying.

"Did I ever tell you how I ended up… where I found you, Wally?" And Roy can remember exactly how he found Wally. He'd been on his knees at the time with his mouth wrapped uncomfortably around some john's dick. He'd been hooking for bus fare at that point, anything to get him a little further away from Star City. He was pretty sure they'd met up in Kansas but Roy spent any time not on his knees either asleep on the bus or curled up pumping toxin into his veins. He could ask Wally if Wally remembered, but he didn't want to bring up how they actually met.

Wally was still innocent at that point, a complete virgin, and the guys who liked guys like that could tell. It'd been outside some club or another, some skuzzy bar only a few blocks down from the bus station. Wally'd just come in from his bus and he had not been looking to find trouble, but with the bruises from his father's last beating fresh on his face and his damaged psyche just as obvious it was no wonder he got pulled into the same back alley as Roy. The john Roy'd been sucking off came, paid, and Roy had been left with one knee in a puddle of rainwater and booze and eyes only for the poor kid being pressure into sex he did not want.

It was not the first or the last time that Roy's 'training' or 'heroic instincts' or 'stupidity' overcame Roy's tired body and common sense, but it was definitely the most fulfilling time. He had actually felt like a hero for three seconds after he'd knocked the would-be-rapist out.

Then he'd upchucked semen and bile onto the brick wall of the club, he had barely missed Wally.

"I didn't think you wanted to talk about it." Wally said diplomatically. He shifted closer to Roy so that they could sit with their backs to the door side by side. A pair of teenage shoulders, as skinny as they were, easily filled up the door from edge to edge. "Are you ready?"

Roy thought about Hal and how nonjudgmental he had been. He thought about those pamphlets that Barry left around when he visited. He thought about the warmth of Wally's body next to his, and the touch of Wally's lips, and how safe and wanted Wally could make him feel.

"I didn't start out hooking for the fun of it, just like the drugs… that's a different story, but one thing lead to another with drugs. When you're a junkie you learn sometimes you've gotta do things you don't want to for the high. I knew guys who stole from their parents for it. I was sure as hell stealing from Ollie…" Roy took a breath. "I ran with a crew, originally there was a girl with us. When she stopped showing up I looked into it, investigated like I'd been taught," Roy scoffed. He'd been taught to investigate alright, by the most clueless man on the planet. "She'd overdosed, accidentally, but there were some suspicious circumstances. She'd been sucking off our dealer for one…"

Wally bumped his shoulder against Roy's when Roy paused, and gave Roy's hand a squeeze before he rested his hand on top of Roy's.

"Thanks… Anyway, it wasn't anything *but* an accident. I didn't think anything about her sucking off the guy until our dealer asked me to do it. Not even asked, just sort of… implied. It's hard to describe." Roy could remember the jitters he'd been suffering from at the time. He'd needed that hit so badly at the time he'd do anything for it. When the guy had offered the next dose at half price if Roy did him a favor… Roy didn't like spending Ollie's money on this. It hadn't taken much to sink to his knees and give a sloppy blowjob. "It was quick, that time. I didn't know what I was doing, but he didn't expect much. He kept to his deal though, I got discounted pricing for myself and eventually for my crew. He wasn't my pimp…" Roy sucked in a breath and remembered going on his knees for the first time for someone who wasn't the dealer. "I didn't really start whoring until after I left Star City."

How he'd gotten to the BART terminal and bought the ticket the first time Roy had no idea. He had been suffering from withdrawal and shock and who knows what else. It was only after he got off somewhere in San Francisco that Roy had realized how strapped for cash he was going to be. No cash except what was left in his pockets, no shirt but the shirt on his back, and no food.

It had been far too easy to earn a change of clothes, some food, drugs, and a bus ticket. It'd been too easy to keep earning that way and to allow himself to sink deeper down into the hole he'd dug for himself. His self-pity had almost been so bad that it could be ruled clinical depression. He wasn't suicidal, but he was definitely self-destructive.

Wally knocked their shoulders together before Roy could get even more depressed and Roy smiled at Wally before he leaned over and stole a small kiss. "I'm an idiot, right?"

"Only because you don't think you deserve to be loved." Wally kissed Roy back before he pulled out of reach, although he kept ahold of Roy's hand. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"…well there's the first time I shot up." Roy took a deep breath. "But I think I should save that for the ugly blond in the other room. It'll probably kill him to hear it, and nearly kill me for telling it, but what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?" Roy's smile was wane, definitely the wrong side of sickly, but Wally's sunshine bright smile made it worth it and the sudden fierce kiss doubly so.

Plus, it wasn't like Ollie could kick him out and disinherit him twice, right?

\--

The diner was a little like the ones that Ollie and Roy had sat in together after a night of patrol, the two of them a little bruised and maybe a little bloody, depending on the night. The diner had gotten to know them, had gotten to know not to look twice if Roy was sporting bruises or if Ollie's fingers were bleeding from pulling arrow after arrow that night, the waitress hadn't even minded that one time they'd come in slightly singed from an episode where the villains attacked the flaming arrow signal. Sitting across the booth from Roy now made Ollie feel the disconnect between those times and these. The diner wasn't the same, it was a slightly different color, a slightly different decal, but Ollie could see the echo of Roy's younger self sitting right next to Roy. The booth was an ugly orange plastic and Roy vacillated between leaning back against it and hunching forward over the table, which was a pale grey and white pebbled pattern. Ollie coughed and fussed with the silverware all rolled up into a napkin. Across the diner he could see Hal and that Wally kid sitting at another booth and while Hal was not watching Ollie could see that Wally was.

The waitress comes by and drops off two cups of coffee before she whisks away to other booths. The diner is not terribly busy at that point in the evening, but it was not quiet either. Roy and Ollie could have their talk without worrying about being overheard.

If they could ever get started.

Roy dumped some sugar into his coffee before he stirred it, his attention focused on the inky black depths. Then he laughed, a small smile curling his lips. "I should have had a milkshake."

"What?" Ollie is halfway towards signaling the waitress to come back when Roy reaches across the table and touches him on the wrist which stopped Ollie cold.

"In Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Indy's talking about how the last time that he and his dad talked he had a milkshake." Roy looked into Ollie's face like he was waiting for a reaction, some acknowledgement, some spark of recognition, but Ollie couldn't remember the scene that Roy was talking about. Roy's hand dropped away, onto the table and Roy pulled back and curled over his coffee cup again. "Never mind, I think you were more interested in the blond in the front row than the movie, anyway."

The sad thing is, Ollie can remember the girl in the front row.

"Roy…" But what is there to say? Ollie is not sorry. He stands by his reaction to the revelation that Roy was a junkie. He can't be proud of Roy beating the addiction, not when he suspects that he had help from Wally or possibly Hal and Barry as well. Ollie remembers his own addiction to opium, yet another dark part of his first trial as Green Arrow from before he had even become Green Arrow. He remembers the taste, the hunger, the heat of the island and the unrepentant beams of the sun.

"It's alright." Roy's shoulders tightened and then fell, when Roy looked up at Ollie it was with an edge of defeat to his face. "I don't know what you want me to say to you."

"Anything." Ollie's answer was quick too quick, because Roy flinched and just looked upset. "…just tell me why, Roy." And Ollie was not even sure what he was asking Roy for. Was he asking for why Roy did drugs? But Roy had told him, hadn't he? He had said that it was because Ollie had left him and he'd been lonely. That was a lousy excuse and Ollie knew there had to be more to it.

Roy took a deep breath and his hands clenched around the coffee mug like it was a lifeline. "I didn't start out thinking 'oh, drugs probably aren't that bad'. I'm not stupid, no matter what you might think of me now, and I was actually…" Roy swallowed and took a sip of coffee, then made a face and added more sugar. "I was working, doing the job you should have been doing, and trying to keep Star City clean."

Ollie flinched at the recrimination. Star City was not the best of cities at the best of times and he had left the job of cleaning up the streets to one teenage boy. How could he have thought that one kid could handle all of that on his own? And Ollie would have been foolish to think that Roy *wouldn't* go out and get into dangerous situations without him there. But he'd thought the kid knew how to judge dangerous from, well, not as dangerous.

He should have known better.

"The drug rings were by the docks, they're always by the docks, but there were parties going on too, parties that Roy Harper, ward of Oliver Queen could get into. I had a dozen lies for why you weren't around, and I used them, and I started spreading the word that I was looking for 'a good time'." Roy snorted slightly. "I got offered hookers at first, I had to hold a few parties and cleaning up after those was never fun, but eventually I managed to find the upper-class dealers. From there I could trace things back to the docks, where the drugs always seem to be, and then to the street level dealers. I had how I was going to take them down all plotted out… then…"

Roy can remember when it happened. It was one of the parties and there was a dealer there who noticed that as interested as Roy was in everything going on he hadn't taken anything. Roy would like to say he was forced, or pressured, or coerced, or that he panicked, anything to take the weight off of him.

"They looked like they were having fun." Roy glanced quickly at Ollie who cleared his face and made himself appear as blank and non-judgmental as he could. "Or, they at least looked like they didn't care. The guy asked if I knew how to shoot up. I told him no. He… helped me those first few times. It wasn't anything weird, he just figured he could make easy money off of me. When I realized how badly I was hooked I acted fast, I got the high end dealers locked up and carted away, I started working to clean up the street… but the cravings got too bad, and more than that I was running a dangerous sloppy game. I knew I was going to get noticed and it was like the entire city started crawling with dealers."

Roy took a breath so deep Ollie watched as his back chest expanded. It also showed how much Roy's body had changed since he had lived with Ollie, no more baby fat on his cheeks, now it was all muscle and bone. There was even a fine line of fuzz along his chin. Roy would likely never get five-o'clock shadow like Hal got, but he was unmistakably not a kid, not a young teen either.

"I stepped back. I couldn't do it, I thought about contacting you… but I had no way of doing that. I couldn't even call Hal since he and you were off together."  
"I meant to call." Ollie said, and he had. He had looked at payphones, hotel phones, phones in people's houses, the cracked and broken, bulky black hand held phones that bad guys carted around with them sometimes and he'd thought about calling Roy or Dinah to tell them how he was or where he was. Roy gave him a look that quite clearly read 'bullshit'. "I did."

"I used to wait by the phone." Roy pushed his coffee away and straightened up. "I used to sit there and wait for you to call, I made promises to myself about what I would or wouldn't do if you called. Thinks like 'I won't throw another party' or 'I'll tell him what I'm doing' or 'I'll ask him for help. Then later it was 'I won't shoot up'," Ollie watched Roy's throat bob when he swallowed and Roy's next statement sounded rough with suppressed tears, "or 'I'll ask him for help'."

Ollie was torn. He could not stand tears, he could not stand weakness, and he could not stand emotions. But he also wanted to tell Roy that if Roy had asked for him he would have been there.

But he was not sure if that statement would have been true, so he stayed quiet.

"I don't need your help anymore, Ollie." Roy said and he slipped out of the booth. "I don't need your sad attempts to play house, or you to defend me. Checkmate made me an offer," And Ollie had slipped out of the booth too, the two of them were now standing in the middle of the walkway of the diner and drawing stares. Wally and Hal scrambled to make it over to the two of them. "I'm going to accept it and work for big brother, which I know you'll hate, and if I go back to being a costumed hero I'll do it on my own terms."

Roy fished a plain brown wallet out of his pocket and tossed a few dollar bills onto the booth, just enough to cover coffee and a tip. Then he grabbed Wally's wrist and pulled the other redhead out of the diner. Ollie was left to stare at the blank space Roy had occupied until Hal stepped forward and filled it.

"He's grown up a lot."

This time Ollie was the one who found himself with tears pressuring the insides of his eyes. He blinked twice and then swiped one away before he could be forced to admit they were there at all. "He has."


End file.
